Sometimes it's good just to wait things out. This is a hard lesson to learn, and one would think that, given the apparently random nature of what you might call 'contingency'—where any kind of crap can happen, and as far as you're concerned it's just about as 'random' as it could possibly get—chances are that 'waiting' as a recipe for dealing with things really promises no better results than not waiting and getting in there and making decisions.
I mean, I'm all for decisions. Decisions are good. Besides, we make them anyway, so we might was well make them open-eyed, knowing that we're making them; rather than pretending it ain't so. But, but, but... Sometimes waiting is better. The trick is to know when—and, let's face it, how would you know? Or that's what you'd think, right? How could you know whether waiting is going to increase your chances of a better outcome than being impatient?
Well, I agree that 'knowing' is probably not on the cards. But exposure to 'life' can at least produce a mental condition where in lieu of 'knowledge' there is at least an 'inkling', and maybe a strong one at that. Your brain is a principal-component analysis machine—scary word and very scary maths, I know!—and that's what 'inklings' are all about: you may not know, but you have a good idea what's likely and what isn't. Search for certainty and you tie yourself into knots. Follow you inklings and you'll be amazed how often they are spot-on. And, yes, it's hard to tell 'inklings' apart from 'wishful thinkings' or 'morbid reflections'. But that's life. You just gotta learn.
Anyway, inklings and stuff told me to wait. And at least one item has resolved itself: the 'where'. For the time being it's going to be Brisbane, Queensland, Australia. Things have configured themselves in such a way that this is the place. Whatever that means in the long run is unclear. But that's where we start. Not that it's a 'new' place for either my wife for me. We've lived here before; indeed this is where we met. The city has expanded to grotesque proportions from the days when I was driving a Yellow Cab here, but in many ways and along many roads I can still drive a car and it kind of finds its own way, even though whatever lines the roads has changed, often beyond recognition.
Right now the familiarity extends to memories of very hot days, with near-100% relative humidity. Yesterday was one of those days. I'm certain that there will be more.
Issues remaining to be resolved: 1) the sale of our house and 2) the sale of our car; plus a hundred smaller issues, but it's those big two that are hard to control and simply have to be...
...yep, you guessed it...
Ahh, patience is hard. Not just for the young, I tell you!